


Class-Action Lawsuit!

by quarterweeb



Series: Yuu've got a question! [3]
Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Fantastic Racism, Gen, Humor, Reader-Insert, bet you didn't expect those next to each other, i really do wanna know why only savanaclaw has furries in it tho, yeah it's not super serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quarterweeb/pseuds/quarterweeb
Summary: Poor Twiya’s a victim of The System, and you’ve got to rescue him from Its awful clutches. And, as everyone knows, the first step to bringing down an ancient and flawed form of classification of individuals is research.There’s a couple of people you’ll need to go to for this question, but let’s start on the ground with your wolfy tsundere Prince Charming.-Your question of the day today:is Savanaclaw racist?
Relationships: Dire Crowley & Original Character(s), Jack Howl & Original Character(s)
Series: Yuu've got a question! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884787
Kudos: 40





	Class-Action Lawsuit!

**Author's Note:**

> why isn't there a fox boy in pomefiore or something?? come on twst what the hell!!  
> yeah i got tired of seeing furries in sleeveless leather jackets so i wrote this to try and explain why that will not happen! let a dogboy into scarabia i'm begging u

“Thanks for helping me work through the alchemy lab today,” your classmate Twiya says. “I’m really sorry for troubling you...”

“Don’t worry about it!” you say. “I may not be magic, but I can follow a recipe, and you looked pretty lost.”

Twiya’s pale diamond ears, sprouting from higher on his head than a human’s, twitch with embarrassment. He puts his face in his hands to hide his growing blush. Even hunching over like he is, Twiya is much, _much_ taller than you.

“Reading can get really hard for me sometimes,” he says, his voice muffled by his hands. “I try to read slowly but then all the words get jumbled up, and...”

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal, Twiya.” You try to change the subject so all the blood in their gangly body doesn’t rush into their face. “What are you doing once you get back to your dorm?”

Twiya groans. “Leona is gonna make us do more magift practice. I’m not even good at magift, I can’t get my legs to work right whenever I play...I’ll probably just hide in one of the storage rooms and do my homework in there until dinner.”

Well, if that ain’t the saddest thing you ever did hear, and you’re literally trapped in a different universe. “You can always hide out with me, if you need to. No one ever comes around Ramshackle.”

“I wouldn’t wanna cause you any more trouble,” Twiya says, shaking his head. “It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You reluctantly wave Twiya through the portal to Savanaclaw, watching until his thin tail disappears through the rippling glass.

Poor Twiya always sounds like he’s having a tough time in his dorm. He’s clumsy and unathletic, and one of the nicest people you’ve ever met, twisted or otherwise. Basically, he’s the exact opposite of most of the kids in the “Sports!” Dorm. The only things he really has in common with his dorm-mates are his raspy voice, his homeland, and his furriness. 

In fact, all of the students you’ve seen here with ears on top of their head and tails on their backsides sport gold and black. And something about that strikes you as...racism? No, it’s _definitely_ racism.

You can’t put all the furries in Savanaclaw, and you also can’t bar non-furries from being in Savanaclaw. What if there’s a human that’s super into body-building? You can’t just throw them in Heartslabyul and call it a day. And what if there’s a half-donkey that’s the best hacker out there? You’re gonna make that kid suffer with the jocks instead of putting him in Ignihyde where he belongs?

Poor Twiya’s a victim of The System, and you’ve got to rescue him from Its awful clutches. And, as everyone knows, the first step to bringing down an ancient and flawed form of classification of individuals is research. 

There’s a few people you’ll need to go to for this question, but let’s start on the ground with your wolfy tsundere Prince Charming.

Jack is a Good Boy who doesn’t have any social media, so you can’t contact him that way like you can your other two besties. You really don’t want to go back onto Savanaclaw turf to find him, either, even if you proved yourself an honorary sports furry during Azul’s contract fulfillment. Fortunately for you, Jack and Deuce are both in track and field and it’s easy enough to get Deuce to pass on a message for you.

You meet Jack in the library after classes let out for the day. It’s easy to spot him looking for you, on account of the fact that he’s 6’3. That is, 6’3 not including his ears, which you can see twitching from where you’re sitting. You can’t yell for him (libraries are the same, regardless of the alternate universe) so you whisper his name and depend on his superhuman hearing to pick it up.

Your quiet beckons might actually have worked, because it doesn’t take long for his face to appear from around a bookshelf. You wave him into the study area you’re sitting in.

“Hi, Jack! Thanks for meeting me.”

“Whatever,” he says dismissively, before immediately destroying his apathetic façade by continuing, “What’d you need my help with?”

“Just wanted to ask you some stuff about Savanaclaw’s student population.”

Jack’s brow creases. “I dunno if I can help you with that kinda stuff, but I’ll do what I can. Since I still owe you, and all.”

For what, you don’t know, but you don’t have a problem with Jack being tsun again if it means he’ll do you a solid. “Thanks! I’m thinking about filing a class action lawsuit, and your testimony will be super helpful.”

“A what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, waving his befuddled look off.

You look at your list of questions, written in shorthand.

  * nAS → SC?
  * AS → nSC?
  * nF → SC?
  * F → nSC?



Right at the top, red and in all caps, is the big money question: **SAVANACLAW = RACIST?**

Well, nothing to it but to do it. Slipping into the role of an upstart journalist, you start with your first question.

“Is there anyone not from....that Savanna place, who’s in Savanaclaw?”

“You mean the Afterglow Savanna?” Jack’s face becomes, somehow, even more confused. “I’m not from there.”

‘Afterglow’? Are you serious? Whatever, you’re not going to dispute the weird names these people have for their countries. Most of the places where you live got their names from people, weird language misunderstandings, or other, older places. “Where are you from again?”

“Pyroxene.”

Oh, yeah, that’s right! He did say something about going skiing during winter break, which you definitely couldn’t do in the middle of a savanna. Plus, even in your universe, gray wolves aren’t native to, like, Africa. You wonder if it’s hard for Jack to live in Savanaclaw’s dorm land when he’s used to snow.

“Is there anyone from the Afterglow Savanna that’s not in Savanaclaw?”

“Uh, I think....Rook-senpai is from there.”

 _That’s_ where he’s from?

...it would explain why Rook is so weirdly good at cornering people. If you’re used to sneaking around someone with the brains of a human and the senses of an animal, getting the jump on a normal person would be a piece of cake. Kind of creepy that Rook’s from the Land of the Furries and is obsessed with hunting them, though. Is that legal? That can’t be legal. That’s _got_ to count as murder.

You almost feel bad for Leona knowing he can’t escape Rook, even at home. Almost. And Rook doesn’t have animal ears! There goes your theory of everyone in Afterglow Savana being a catboy-slash-catgirl-slash-nyanbinary person.

“Then, is there anyone else like you who’s not in Savanaclaw?”

“Like....” Jack squints at you. “Really tall?”

Bless this poor stupid dogboy. His tail is fluffy, his teeth are sharp, and his head is so, so empty. “No, like—” You point your hands up and put them on top of your head. Jack (bless him, truly) imitates your action and runs into his own ears. He cocks his head, and you nod slowly.

“You mean beastmen?”

You’d better write that word down, if that’s the socially acceptable term for them. Wouldn’t want to offend anyone while you’re trying to get this lawsuit together.

“Yeah. Do you know anyone outside of Savanaclaw who’s a beastman?”

“Hmm.” He really thinks about it. “I don’t think so.”

Score one for you and suing Night Raven College! “And are there any kids in Savanaclaw who aren’t beastmen?”

Jack shrugs. “Maybe one or two? Not really sure.”

An inconclusive answer, but one you’ll take nonetheless.

You thank Jack for his time and send him on his way, watching his tail sway back and forth behind him.

Now to decide on your next course of action. You could certainly try to infiltrate Savanaclaw (again?) and see if you can spot one of these few humans in a sea of furries. You could even search every other dorm to see if you could find a furry in a sea of humans, if you hated yourself. Or, you could get a quick and concise answer, by going directly to the source of all these problems.

* * *

“I am not the source of all these problems,” Dire Crowley says, looking at your list of questions and answers.

Crowley is known to flit from place to place while school’s in session, which makes it difficult to catch him during the day. That’s why you’re forgoing a nice evening dinner with your friends to meet with him in his office instead.

Clicking his golden claws on the table, Crowley lays your paper on his giant desk. It’s still tiny compared to the rest of the office. “No, there is nothing I can do about the problems you’ve brought to my attention. It is simply not my place.”

“What do you mean? You’re the headmaster of the whole school! If you’re not behind this, who is?”

From behind his mask, Crowley gives you a look like _wow, sometimes I forget that you’re from another universe entirely, because if you weren’t, you would sound real stupid right now_. “The Mirror of Darkness is the device that sorts students into their houses based on the shape of their souls. I’m far too kind to my students to group them simply on homeland or physical appearance.”

The kindness part is debatable, but you do recall standing in front of the mirror and being publicly humiliated for not having a magic-shaped soul. The headmaster might be kiiiind of a manipulative asshole, but he’s not lying (at least, not this time).

There is a clear path before you. But it is not a path you want to take.

You set your jaw. “So I’ve got to confront the Magic Mirror, then.”

“No, no, no, no!” the Headmaster says, waving his hands around dramatically. “The Mirror of Darkness’s decision is final. Besides, it can only be awoken in the most specific circumstances and by a certain phrase!”

You hold up a finger instead of raising your hand for your question. “Doesn’t this school allow students to transfer to other dorms?”

“The Mirror of Darkness can only be awoken in the most specific circumstances and by a certain phrase,” Crowley repeats, sounding a bit like he’s sulking. 

“Ooookay, well, what are the circumstances and what is the phrase, then?”

“I, of course, cannot tell you that,” Crowley sniffs. “You must understand, the Mirror of Darkness has been a part of the selection process for this school since its inception. Without it, the quality of our students would drop considerably. In addition, the Mirror is a tool, not a person. It does not make decisions the way that you or I would.”

“I see,” you nod. So the corruption goes deeper than you thought. It’s been embedded in the very technology of this school, right since the beginning.

Crowley is saying something — you catch a few words and figure he’s probably threatening not to send you home if you don’t take your nose out of school business — but your righteous quest for justice will not stop here. No one ever made history by listening to their crow principal, so it’s time to start breaking some rules.

But really, that’s nothing new for you.

* * *

“Hey, Mirror!” you whisper-yell, darting into the mirror chamber. The locked coffins, glowing green the last time you were in this room, are now dim and bobbing silently.

You’ll have to be quick. Whether or not you’re allowed to be in here (probably not), what you’re about to do is definitely forbidden. Even the air in the room is pushing you back towards the entranceway.

You approach the mirror in the center of the room. It’s large enough to be intimidating, with an ornate frame dulled by time. Its dark face reflects your own back, instead of that weird theatre mask with the fire behind it. 

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” you whisper, “why the fuck are you being racist to the NRC students?”

The Magic Mirror does not respond, not even to tell you to fuck off. Hm.

The middle of a Thursday night definitely isn’t the “most specific circumstances” Crowley had mentioned, but perhaps you can come up with the “certain phrase” and get something out of the old thing. You have a feeling the secret password isn’t going to be “abracadabra” or something equally cute and obvious, but maybe it’s that level of generic. 

You clear your throat and channel your inner Vil.

“Oh, dark Mirror, awaken and serve me!”

Still no response, even after that powerful delivery. What, are you not intimidating enough for it? Is it because you’re not magic?! Because that’s another -ism that you will be suing for!

You wrap your fingers around the thick frame and throw your whole body weight backwards. The thing doesn’t even budge. You shove forwards. Nothing that direction, either. It’s like the mirror is bolted to an invisible wall.

With a frustrated yell, you shake back and forth as hard as you can. Under your hands, you feel the frame shift the slightest bit backwards. Before you can keep working it out of the air, a sharp sting on your right hand makes you hiss and pull back.

Your head snaps up to see Crowley in the doorway, his golden eyes slitted through his mask. He’s brandishing a long, dark whip, with a handle the same fuschia and blue as his cloak. The frayed end of the whip trails on the floor, until he jerks his arm and snaps it to his side.

You can see a light red welt forming on the back of your hand. For him to hit you in such a small spot from at least 15 feet away...he’s got to be really fuckin’ good with that thing.

You stop your thoughts from straying to how much practice Crowley has had with a whip and why. “What was that for!?”

He shifts his incredulous gaze from you to the frame of what is no doubt a priceless magical artifact and cornerstone of this school, now tilted back about half an inch.

Ah. Right.

You slowly place your hands up, backing away from the mirror. You’re not worried about being expelled — not after you’ve saved four different people from overblotting, what would this school do without you — but detention and menial labor are very much on the table

Your surrender, though gracious, is not accepted. Crowley’s arm flies out in the space of a blink and your leg jerks up. You hop on the other, rubbing the burning spot on your shin.

“Dude, seriously? I’m sorry, okay? I made a mistake and I’m willing to accept my punishment!”

Crowley lowers his whip arm and steps further into the room. “This is a serious violation of the rules.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have listened to you instead of going off on my own.” You hang your head a bit.

When Crowley’s stepped close enough to you to reach, you enact your impromptu plan. Your hand closes around the whip and pulls, but he doesn’t let go of it. His grip might be stronger than you’d planned, but the move throws him off-balance, which gives you an opening to get out of there. You dart past Crowley into the hallway, picking up speed as you go.

Your headmaster isn’t far behind. “You can’t escape from the whip of love!”

“Leave me alone, I didn’t even manage to do anything!” you yell back, hiding behind columns to avoid the snap of the whip.

You manage to get back to your dorm, but not without a couple more welts on your arms and legs. It’s perfect. Now you might be able to get away with suing Night Raven for abuse of a student!

**Author's Note:**

> hey! if u also care about real racism, here is a thread of [videos u can stream to support BLM!](https://twitter.com/uwurahv/status/1308911437537054721)
> 
> comments and kudos keep me going <3 even if you don't leave one, tysm for reading my work!
> 
> btw, twiya is meant to be a giraffe anthro! and i seriously didn't know what the proper name for people with animal ears was other than anthropomorphs and kemonomimi, so i'm glad that one of the more recent shel_bb translations mentioned that they were called "beastmen". 
> 
> come bother me on [my anitwt](https://twitter.com/quarterweeb) :3


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